


rain city

by electricindigo



Series: road to recovery [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, may suggests that peter sees a shrink, peter is mad so he runs away like a child, tony is Trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 17:10:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11559681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electricindigo/pseuds/electricindigo
Summary: Eventually, he finds himself sitting on the subway on the way upstate. At the back of his mind, he knows he’s going to the Avengers tower, but he doesn’t really know why. Peter gets a few concerned looks from the civilians around him, and he honestly can’t blame them. He’s shaky and tired and his eyes are glazed over. His senses feel all muddy and dysfunctional, too, so he’s not surprised if he looks like shit.He just wants - no, needs - someone to listen.-May brings up the possibility of seeing a shrink. Peter hates the idea and runs off, finding himself in the Avengers Tower.





	rain city

**Author's Note:**

> part two of road to recovery! may is really trying her hardest, but peter can't see it. tony helps him understand why.
> 
> warnings: spoilers for spider-man homecoming, anxiety, and some cursing. i hope you enjoy

**Ned (15:02): Hey man where r u??**

**Peter (15:12): did may call you**

**Ned (15:12):  Yeah actually**

 

Peter’s sitting in an alley, hood up as the rain pours down. He ran out of his apartment and down seven flights of stairs, into the rain, after an argument with May, and now he’s cold and angry and alone.

 

**Peter (15:14): i left the house cause may’s forcing me to see a fucking shrink**

**Peter (15:14): and i don’t wanna go i don’t want anyone to think i’m fucked up or idk**

 

It’s a dumb reason to run out, that’s for sure. It makes Peter feel immature, but it isn’t like he had no reason to be upset. Lack of sleep does that to an already irritable teenager. Not only that, but he feels attacked for the way she brought it up - like he was helpless and useless and all things in between. Sighing, Peter unlocks his phone and hangs up on May’s continuous calls. He doesn’t feel like talking to her.

 

Ned doesn’t reply for a couple minutes. When he does, though, it’s a long message, and Peter’s brows furrow when he reads it.

 

**Ned (15:20): Peter i don’t know if this is even my place to say but i’m sure your aunt is just doing that because she’s worried about you. Dude i’m worried about you. Even flash asked me if you were okay the other day. Also all of our the teachers keep asking MJ and i to check up on you, especially Coach wilson**

**Ned (15:22): And come on, MJ’s worried as hell too. She was angry at you for leaving her the other day but now she’s just worried**

 

Peter’s face burns with anger.

 

**Peter (15:22): lol thanks for the pity and the vote of confidence**

**Ned (15:23): Can you not be childish and listen for a second?? Just give it a chance or something idk i’m worried dude your not the same anymore**

**Ned (15:23): *youre**

**Ned (15:24): Where even are you? You arent home**

**Peter (15:28): sorry i think i just need to cool off**

**Peter (15:28): thanks ffor being patient with me i’ll text you later**

**Ned (15:29): Where are you? And it’s okay that’s what best friends are for! Guy in the chair :)**

 

Peter blinks and feels a few tears roll down his cheeks. He doesn’t deserve a best friend like Ned at all, but he’s willing to be selfish enough to keep him around.

 

**Peter (15:31): :( thanks man**

**Peter (15:32): i’m just walking around trust me i’ll be fine i’ll text you when i get home**

 

His phone buzzes with a few more messages, but he puts his phone in his pocket and tries to stop his bottom lip from trembling. After a few moments, he keeps his web-shooters in his backpack pocket and wipes his phone screen before he starts walking down the block aimlessly.

 

Eventually, he finds himself sitting on the subway on the way upstate. At the back of his mind, he _knows_ he’s going to the Avengers tower, but he doesn’t really know _why._ Peter gets a few concerned looks from the civilians around him, and he honestly can’t blame them. He’s shaky, tired, and soaking wet. Not only that, but his eyes are glazed over and he's visibly shaking from the cold. His senses feel all muddy and dysfunctional, too, so he’s not surprised if he looks like shit.

  
He just wants - no, needs - someone to listen.

 

Peter puts his earphones on and starts blasting music, trying to ignore the stares of the people around him.

 

* * *

 

“Peter? You're soaking wet, what happened?”

 

“Hey Happy,” Peter says, out of breath and shivering. He forces a smile and tries to step around him to get inside the new Avengers building. “So like, we’re friends, right? Like we have this cool big brother little brother relationship and all. And you know, as friends, we can like crash at each other’s places and stuff-”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“-and you know, I’m basically an Avenger. Cause Mr. Stark offered. And, like, he prepared quarters for me so, uh, so can I crash here tonight?”

 

Happy stares at him for a while, but he seems more confused than annoyed at him, which is really saying something. “Go up,” he says, stepping aside so Peter can get in. “Your quarters are on the fourth floor, last door to the left. Take a warm shower.”

 

“Thanks Happy,” Peter says, his facade dropping right away. He quickly scurries inside, gets in the elevator, and tries to convince himself that the reason he’s shaking is from exhaustion and the cold alone.

 

(It’s not. It’s from the crushing realization that the last time he was in an elevator, his friends almost _died._ It wasn’t because of an accident. It was because of his carelessness, because of his childishness, because he wasn’t careful, and if he hadn’t gotten there in time then everyone’s deaths would be on him.)

 

* * *

 

 

Happy tells Tony the situation once Peter is in his quarters. Tony sits quietly and listens to the way Happy describes how tired the kid looked, and offers to drive him home tomorrow. Tony nods his thanks and locks himself in his workshop, trying to get his mind off a lot of things.

 

It’s 1:30 in the morning when he goes up to get a glass of water. When he gets there, however, he sees Peter standing by the fridge, trying to pour himself a glass of apple juice with shaky hands. The kid looks worse than usual, and his concern for him heightens to a different level. Frowning, he walks to closer to him and clears his throat to catch Peter’s attention.

 

Peter yelps and drops the glass, which shatters all over the kitchen floor. His eyes grow wide and his cheeks turn pink. “Oh, God,” he says. “I’m so sorry Mr. Stark, I-I got scared,”

 

“It’s fine…Why are you awake?” Tony frowns.

 

“Uh. I’m more productive at night?” Peter says anxiously. He runs his hand through his hair and forces a laugh. “You know, since I got here pretty early and all, and-and you know, I thought it would be a okay if-if I got a drink.”

 

“…Okay kid, let’s get away from the broken glass and sit down.” Tony sighs, placing a hand on his shoulder. He tries to ignore how Peter flinches from under his touch.

 

“I don’t feel like sitting. I kinda just wanna lie back down, you know?”

 

Tony sighs again and uses the best adult voice he can and says, “Peter.”

 

Peter looks up sheepishly, then drops his smile. Immediately, Tony can see the dark circles under his eyes and the small tremors running through his back. “Why do we have to sit?” He whines, sounding very much like a child.

 

“So we can talk about why you’re so riled up. Cut the crap, kid. You look _horrible.”_

 

“Gee, thanks,” Peter mumbles, a hint of sass in his tone, but he steps over the glass and follows Tony to the living area anyway.

 

Tony guides Peter and lets him sit on a big beanbag while he takes the seat across him. He requests for Dum-E to clean up the mess and bring them peppermint tea and waits patiently for the teenager to speak.

 

“I don’t like to talk about it,” Peter starts, pouting as he stares at his cup of tea.

 

“Talk about what?”

 

“You know. Everything that happened, a-and stuff.”

 

“Okay,” Tony shrugs. “But you’re bringing it up now.”

 

Peter groans and shakes his head. “No, you don’t get it. I mean, I don’t wanna talk about it when, you know. Anyone else. Like a doctor.”

 

Tony blinks. _Oh. That’s what this is about._

 

“And May is basically forcing me to see one,” he adds bitterly. “It makes me feel like a kid.”

 

“Tell me, then.”

 

“What?”

 

“If you don’t wanna talk to a doctor, talk to me first.”

 

Peter does. Tony listens carefully, reaching out to rub his back when he starts to stutter painfully, and for once, makes no side comments. He listens and listens, letting the kid pour out his anger and frustration, and by the time Peter is finished, Tony is hit with the sudden realization that his feelings are very, _very_ familiar to him.

 

“But I’m fine,” Peter adds. “Well, maybe not fine. But I’m handling things well on my own.”

 

“Can I ask you a few things?” Tony says.

 

Peter looks up nervously. “Uh. Yeah.”

 

“Have you been sleeping?”

 

Peter flushes and looks back down. “I-I guess. It’s just harder to fall asleep now cause of nightmares and stuff and-”

 

“Have you been eating?”

 

“I don’t see what the point of that question-”

 

“Answer me.”

 

Peter frowns and lets out a breath. “Yeah, I have, but sometimes I get anxious and, and I throw it up.”

 

“How many panic attacks have you had today?”

 

Peter says nothing, his eyes focusing on his twitchy fingers. In his silence, Tony finds his response. “Sorry kid,” he says gently after a few seconds of introspection. “I don’t believe that you’re handling this well at all.”

 

“But I’m handling it as best as I can,” he continues to argue. “I don’t need a doctor to talk to. They won’t know how to fix this.”

 

Tony shakes his head. “Peter, you’re a kid. There are _adults_ who have to see doctors for traumatizing experiences. What more you?”

 

“I’m _fifteen,_ not five,” Peter whines, rubbing his eyes and pouting. Tony sighs. That’s exactly what a kid would say and how a kid would act, but he doesn’t mention it.

 

“Never said you were five, Peter. But hey. I’m serious. You’re not the only one dealing with this stuff,” Tony says, rubbing Peter’s back. “Trust me.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well,” Tony starts, sitting up straight. “I started seeing a shrink 9 years ago and I still have her number saved just in case the whole anxiety thing happens again.”

 

“But if I ask for help, I’ll be weak.”

 

“You think I’m weak?”

 

Peter frowns and opens his mouth. “No! No, not you, it’s different, you were, you were held captive.”

 

“How is that different?”

 

“Well obviously, you have a right to be anxious about things,” Peter says, his voice a bit hysteric. “Like, like you actually went through a traumatizing experience. I’m just weak. I mean, I freak out over every little thing.”

 

Tony closes his eyes, trying not to show Peter how close this is hitting home. Instead, he channels his energy into something else. “It takes so much strength to ask for help,” he says to the kid, voice low. “It’s so hard to do that.”

 

Peter sighs and sits up straight, rubbing his eyes. Tony can feel the gears in his head turning as he tries to process everything he said. “Look, Peter,” he adds. “Ultimately, the decision is up to you. And as much as I’d want you to talk to me and your aunt about how you feel, I think a professional would help you make more progress.”

 

Peter nods quietly and then frowns. “I snapped at May,” he moans sadly, flopping back on the couch.

 

“You should apologize,” he says. “I know that sometimes you feel like adults are trying to ruin your life, but most of the time, they know what’s best for you.”

 

Peter sniffles and wipes his eyes, looking up at Tony. Tony’s familiar with this - these self deprecating thoughts that come with being a superhero. The nightmares, the anxiety, the guilt that Peter is clearly feeling is not new to him. It’s not even a surprise. It affected his whole team, why wouldn’t it affect a fifteen year old?

 

“C’mere,” he says instead, giving him a hug. It feels awkward and sad, but he knows that the last thing Peter needs is to feel like his feelings are invalidated. “I know it’s hard, kid. But you’ve gotta trust us, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Peter says, voice hitching.

 

“Good. Now go back to sleep,” Tony says, pulling away and ruffling his hair. Peter stands up and says a quiet thank you, bringing the (now cold) cup of tea to his room.

 

Before Tony lets his emotions get the better of him, he grabs his phone and sends a message to May Parker.

 

**Tony (02:12): May, Peter took the subway to the new Avengers facility. He has a room here. He’s safe and he’s asleep. I’ll have Happy drive him back to you tomorrow.**

 

His phone chimes barely a minute after.

 

**May (02:13): Oh, thank God. I’ve been calling him the whole night. Is everything okay?**

 

**Tony (02:15): I think so. He told me what you two talked about, and I think I got him to open his mind to the suggestion a bit more. I’ll send you the number of a child psychiatrist that I know of.**

 

**May (02:16): Thank you, Tony.**

 

Tony takes a long sip from his cup of tea and closes his eyes. The weight on his shoulders that’s been there since his PTSD started shifts. Maybe helping the kid is helping him heal, too.

**Author's Note:**

> i have one last piece planned for this series; a really fluffy one that involves peter's friends trying to help him out.
> 
> english is not my first language. please forgive me (or correct me) if i have any grammatical errors.
> 
> thank you x


End file.
